


Death of Beauty

by OllyJay



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Case Fic, F/M, Reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-08-14 10:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8009833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OllyJay/pseuds/OllyJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack follows through on his decision to pursue Phryne but he arrives in London to find she's already left for Melbourne, and now he's been pulled into a case involving London high society.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Winter Garden.

Two small shadows slipped out of the french doors at the back of the grand house, heading towards the first of a cluster of outbuildings that extended to the fields. The larger of the two went first, stopping often so the other did not fall behind. They rested for a moment in the deep gloom of the stables, before running across open ground to the gardeners shed. Sticking to the shadows they circled the shed until they were hidden from the house and then they struck out across the fields.

When they reached the edge of the copse, the girl stopped, she knew both their parents would be dead by now. The pack she had slung over one shoulder contained everything she needed to take care of things, including the directions to a safe house. She reached out to grasp the hand of her younger brother, and with all the confidence she could muster she told him "We are safe James."

He looked up at her smiling, she was the person he loved most in the world, even more than Mama and Papa. He trusted her completely and was enjoying the adventure she was taking him on. She could see his sweet face in the moonlight and suddenly the bag felt a great deal heavier.

Holding hands they disappeared into the darkness.

*****

Jack Robinson, hands in pockets with the collar of his overcoat upturned and fedora pulled down low, strolled into the garden shared by the residents of the square. This far into winter, with no leaves or blooms to distract, the detailed plan of the gardener was clear. Jack found that he preferred this view, plants stripped of artifice, the power of man to bend nature to his will on display. It was, he considered, the perfect place to contemplate his situation and next move.

Spotting a pergola, its large columns smothered with a mass of evergreen ivy, he ambled towards the shelter it offered. He shook his head in bemusement this, his first foray from sense to sensibility, had been an abject failure. He had come after her... but she had delivered her father, taken over control of the family finances and promptly headed back to Melbourne. Typical, impetuous, Phryne.

He felt his mouth shift into the wry smile that she so often prompted. This need for constant movement was the central essence of her and he had known, when he made his decision to pursue her, that there would be challenges. Coming after her was still a grand romantic overture, and she would acknowledge that. If she felt any guilt over his inconvenience... well... he wasn't that noble, in this war he would use every weapon to advance his campaign. Perhaps not a misstep then, just another movement in their dance? He nodded, yes, he could work with that.

He was staying at the London townhouse of Guy and Isabella Stanley. He had turned up at their door looking for her, Guy had explained she was already gone then, to Jacks surprise, he had also offered a guest room. Jack had attempted to withdraw, but Guy was insistent and he could not gracefully refuse. Tired, disappointed, and with no other plan he had finally accepted. It helped that the guest room was far more comfortable than anything he could afford. Stepping into the gloomy interior of the pergola, Jack leaned against the first ivy draped pillar, hands still in pockets, head down, waiting patiently for his next move to reveal itself.

A few minutes later the man, who had been following Jack since he had left the Stanley residence, stepped into the pergola. He jumped when he found that Jack was right beside him leaning against the pillar, "Damn it Robinson!" Jack raised his head quickly, there were only a handful of people who knew that he was in London, and he hadn't realised the owner of this voice was one of them. Though, he admitted to himself, he really should have known better.

"You're the one tailing a private citizen, sir," Jack straightened to look at Captain Leonard Brown, his ex-commanding officer. Ten years older than Jack, tall, lean and well dressed, he presented the friendly, amiable air of a competent man dabbling successfully in any number of undisclosed business ventures.

The Captain shrugged his shoulders, accepting Jack's point. It had been a long time since he had had to tail anyone, he was clearly rusty. Still, Jack had always had an uncanny ability to sense people. "Well regardless, I'm glad to see you Robinson," he slapped Jack warmly on the back, threaded his arm through his as though they were old school chums, and led him towards the garden exit. "Lets go to the office where we can talk." The warm smile on Leonard Brown's face was doing a good job hiding the worry in his eyes, Jack thought. Good, but not perfect.

And that is why, six weeks later, Jack Robinson still occupied a guest room at the Stanley residence, with an open invitation to remain as long as he needed to close his latest investigation.


	2. Temporary Arrangements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to thank you for the positive reactions - I hope you continue to enjoy the story.

Jack leaned back from the desk blinking, his tired eyes wandering across the office space that had been procured for him. Part of an establishment with multiple rooms to hire, no signage and with only the barest of comforts. He wondered how much thought had gone into selecting this, his perfect work environment. It worried him that someone should be able to read him this well but then, he acknowledged, they were professionals.

He looked down at the case file he had put together. A field officer based in Germany had disappeared last month. Brown, low on staff with so many resources focused on the Russian threat, had been forced to lead the recovery effort himself. No wonder then, that when MI5 reported that one of his past operative was about to step off a boat in Southampton, Brown had been quick to seek his help.

Jack considered the photo attached to the file, he was just a lad, no older than Collins. He flicked once more through the rest of the documents, wealthy background, well educated, clearly attracted by the excitement field work promised. It was not hard to picture him boasting of his exploits to his friends, or to impress a woman. The problem with Society, well one of the many problems, is cost - not all of its inhabitants could afford it and not all friendships are equal. For those looking to subsidise their living expenses, the German's were always happy to invest money in the right places, for the right outcomes.

Jack shook his head, they had never been able to establish a network within Germany during the war, and nothing he had read suggested their approach had improved. The missing operative had been posing as an English businessman looking to invest in German manufacturing. Hardly a cast iron cover. A whisper would be enough to have him picked up for questioning by the Abwehr, a military intelligence organisation that had formed after the war. Jack knew all the bad things that happened when you were captured. He prayed that, when found, the missing operative would still bear some resemblance to the carefree, foolish young man he had been.

Reshuffling the papers he had been reading since the early hours of the morning he sighed, he could not find the link to the informer. If Phryne were here she could help him see things differently, her mind swiftly recognising connections, her imagination filling gaps to create scenarios she would assess and discard so quickly it made his head spin. He closed his eyes and let his mind simply rest on the thought of her. After a while, he began to feel her absence so keenly it ached.

A distant sound broke into his reflections, the regular tapping of high heels on the cold hard floors. Straightening in his chair, his lips automatically went to form a smile, he stopped, considered it for a moment, then decided to allow the smile. He moved the files to give her access to the desk beside him, then, taking a deep breath of her French perfume, he opened his eyes to greet her. "Isabella, what brings you here at such an uncivilized hour?" the concern in his voice belied by the sparkle in his eyes.

Isabella Stanley stopped for an instant to enjoy the unexpected gift of a smile on the face of the Inspector. He really was the most ridiculously attractive man, even without one of his rare smiles but with it... "Oh you! Behave, or I won't tell you my story," she laughed to hide her reaction because she knew he wouldn't welcome it. Still, she couldn't resist hitting at him with her small purse, carefully losing her balance to force him to touch her. He reached out, catching her arm to both steady her and prevent damage to the purse he knew would be worth more than a months salary and helped her settle on the desk beside him.

"Tell me all about your investigations," he invited her, leaning back into his chair, head tilted up, giving her his full attention.

*****

"Sir, thank you for coming in," Jack stood to welcome Captain Brown into his office.

The Captain glanced around the meticulously tidy room and desk, "I see you've made yourself at home, Jack."

Jack nodded good naturedly, "I know, it's taken twelve years for me to learn to relax this much," he quipped, waving his hands expansively around the nearly empty room. "I am working up to having loose bits of paper on my desk."

Jack sat, glimpsing down at his file, before looking up to give his report. "I wanted to share our breakthrough. James Deburgh is the inside man. Last night Mrs Stanley overheard a discussion about an intended purchase of a race horse. I was able to access his bank records this morning to confirm he has been receiving large cash payments, some of which tally with the disappearance of our man."

"Excellent work Jack, get me the name of the European contact and I can get our boy back," the Captain stood to leave, "And please pass on our gratitude to Mrs Stanley for her assistance." The Captain, who was kept well informed on Society gossip by Mrs Brown, tried but failed to keep the smirk completely off his face, "The input of the Stanleys to this investigation will not go unacknowledged."

Having seen the dismissive way that his women colleagues had been treated after the war Jack made a mental note to review the citation the Stanleys were likely to receive, he would ensure Isabella received due recognition.


	3. A Reunion

“Phryne. How absolutely divine," Guy stood to greet her, as though it was perfectly normal that she would walk into his parlour, when she was supposed to be on the other side of the planet. “Still rampaging around the world, I see.”

Phryne hugged her cousin. Rampaging was a fair description of her last six weeks. She had been in Calcutta when she received one of the telegrams Dot had hastily dispatched to as many of her potential stop off points as she and Mr Butler could imagine. It read simply, 'Inspector in London'. She had cursed her lack of faith in him, blessed her last minute decision to send a telegram to Wardlow when she was in Karachi, and promptly decided to return to London.

Since Constantinople the weather had been difficult, putting her eight days behind schedule and leaving her plane in dire need of maintenance. She was grounded in Calcutta whilst a group of ex-RAF mechanics struggled to source parts. After two weeks she lost patience, abandoned the plane to their care, caught a train cross-country to Bombay, and jumped on a steamer to Portsmouth. Six weeks after she had last left London she returned to claim her prize.

“The romance of travel is severely over-rated,” she stated emphatically, throwing herself down on the settee beside Guy.

“I suppose you've come looking for your Inspector?" Guy gave her a knowing smile, reaching across to pat her knee "Don't worry Phryne-kins, I've kept your precious policeman nice and safe for you."

Phryne's eyes lit up at once, "Is he here?" she listened for his distinctive voice, but the house was quiet.

Guy shook his head, "He's at his office, solving mysteries, dispensing justice and so forth," he waved his right hand breezily in the air, to encapsulate all things detection related. 

Phryne relaxed back into the settee, how like Jack to have found her a mystery to solve, even here in a country where he wasn't actually a policeman. Already she could feel the excitement building, something that had been strangely lacking the last three months. How she had missed working with him. She shook her head, looking at her cousin "I'm sorry darling, what was that?"

"Let's have tea whilst you tell me all about your adventures," repeated Guy.

Phryne smiled, leaning back in the chair, "Well, I had the most inconvenient bad luck with weather once I got to Constantinople..."

*****

Several hours later, Phryne surveyed Jacks room, everything in it's place, so like her buttoned up Inspector. As she began her careful preparations for dinner she wondered how Jack would react to her decision to share his room. Best to start how she intended to continue she decided, draping a delicate necklace around her neck. As she stood to leave she noticed how untidy the room had become, clothes tried and discarded where they landed, cosmetics littered across the dressing table. She felt sufficiently guilty to quickly straighten the worst of the mess.

When Phryne entered the dining room her cousin exclaimed "Darling, you look absolutely ravishing."

Pleased, Phryne accepted the pre-dinner drink he offered her. She turned to greet Isabella, who shrugged her flawless shoulders and took another sip of her champagne. "Will we wait for Jack?" Phryne asked her cousin.

Isabella, looked at Phryne over her glass, her eyes suddenly alight with mischief, "Jack told me he won't be home tonight."

"Oh?" Phryne, turned to Guy for an explanation.

"Ah. You'll recall I mentioned that the Inspector was solving mysteries?" Phryne nodded slowly. "Well, Isabella has been assisting," Guy looked at his wife "I'm given to understand from the Inspector that her help has been invaluable," he finished proudly.

Phryne looked at Isabella, "You've been helping Jack? Really? Where is he?”

Isabella wandered towards the table and took her place, "He’s staying at the Deburgh estate for the weekend.”

Phryne took a moment to process that information. The Deburgh estate was the ancestral home of James Deburgh and his scandalous, fabulously wealthy, widowed sister Lady Catherine Fowler. "The Deburghs? What have they to do with Jack?" she raised her eyebrows at her cousin.

It was Isabella who answered "Jack," Phryne winced at the use of his familiar name, again, "is investigating a disappearance and believes James is the person responsible."

Phryne thought about it for a moment, "Is Jack undercover?"

Guy answered, "Not really, he just needed an introduction into London Society. Obviously that delicious scandal respecting his ex-wife helped but it wasn't quite enough so... well...." Guy started to look worried.

"Oh for goodness sake," Isabella jumped in "He needed to move quickly, fortunately I was able to devise a plan that made him an irresistible addition to every gathering."

Phryne could swear Isabella was licking her lips.

Phryne looked back to Guy, who was now clearly uncomfortable, "Now don't be angry cousin dearest, but at the moment Isabella's affair with a dashing antipodean is quite the talk of London."

Isabella giggled coquettishly, raising her glass, "Isn't dancing with Jack just your favorite part of crime solving Phryne? He's so exceptionally good at it, don't you agree?" she drawled, giving Phryne her sweetest smile.

Phryne knew she was being baited by an expert but Jack with another woman? She couldn't hide her dismay.

Isabella pounced, "Really Phryne, if you leave sparkling things on the ground, you shouldn't be surprised when someone else picks them up.” Looking positively gleeful Isabella, returning to her meal, stabbed a slice of lamb with her fork.

Phryne struggled to control her temper, Society was a dangerous place for the inexperienced, and her foolish cousin had clearly not been keeping her policeman safe.


	4. Dance Partners

Deburgh Hall streamed light from all it's doors and windows, the music forcing its way through the very stones and there were as many people in the shadows outside, as within. Phryne Fisher flicked her hair back, put her chin up and marched in to find her man.

Inside the banquet hall the dancing was in full swing, beautiful people swooping around the floor, laughing, glittering. Phryne scanned the edges of the room for her Inspector. He would be leaning somewhere, watching, assessing. From the corner of her eye she saw Isabella glide to the centre of the dancing. Still Phryne couldn't see Jack and she wondered if he might be outside.

As she turned she saw Isabella cut into a dance. Phryne froze as a man reached out to spin Isabella into his arms. She watched as Isabella moulded her body to his. Phryne looked around the room and saw more than one woman was captivated by the lean, handsome man dancing with her cousins wife. Well this, she thought, is ridiculous.

Phryne Fisher stalked through the swaying couples towards Isabella. As Isabella was swung out by her partner, Phryne slapped her forearm up, causing her to lose contact with his fingers. Before Isabella could recover, Phryne grabbed his hand swinging herself into his arms. She was rewarded with his sharp intake of breath and a whisper of "Phryne?"

She looked up at him innocently, "Jack," she purred.

He swallowed hard, then, "Isabella didn't deserve that."

Phryne dismissed the topic, "Oh, she can look after herself - lets not talk about her now. I've missed you terribly".

Jack pulled her closer, dropping his head until she could feel his breath against her cheek bones moving across to her ear. She felt as if she might actually swoon with the pleasure of it. "Miss Fisher," his voice low, a rumble she felt rather than heard, "you are supposed to be in Melbourne and I am in the middle of an investigation. Your actions may have compromised me."

She pulled back, looking directly into his eyes "Jack, I fully intend to compromise you absolutely and completely, but it won't harm your investigation in any way," she promised, pulling him towards the doors that led to the garden.

On the way they passed Isabella, rubbing her forearm as she gave Phryne a reproachful look. Phryne didn't even slow down, "Don't sulk Isabella dear, it doesn't suit you."

Jack made a silent apology to Isabella as Phryne continued to drag him outside.

Isabella, checking first to make sure Phryne wasn't watching, blew him a kiss and winked. 

*****

Lady Fowler, surrounded by pretty young men, regarded the stranger currently causing a stir among her female guests. "James?" she addressed her brother beside her, keeping her gaze on the man who had caught her eye, "Who is that?"

James glanced to where she was looking, "Oh, that's Jack Robinson. The blond that keeps throwing herself at him is the wife of that fool Stanley."

"Ah, the disgraced Australian policeman?" she asked.

James nodded, "Yes that's him. I met him at old man Symonds a few weeks ago, he's an incredibly interesting fellow. I rather like him," he looked at his sister "Why?"

"Oh no reason, I just like to know who our visitors are," she finally moved her eyes from the dance floor to her brother, "especially if they are friends of yours."

Lady Fowler leaned against the young man standing behind her, contemplating the handsome antipodean as he left her party.

*****

Still holding Jacks hand, Phryne followed the path to the lake house which was lit up in the distance.

After a few moments silence Jack spoke gently, "You do know Isabella's been assisting with my investigation?"

Phryne made a dismissive noise.

Jack tried again, "Phryne, she was just playing her part."

Phryne kept walking, "In my opinion she's enjoying her part a bit too much. This is no case for an amateur. If anyone is going to pretend to be your lover it will be me," she said definitively. 

Jack stopped walking. The loss of momentum swung Phryne back to face him. His eyes searched hers, "I was hoping you might not need to pretend," he said quietly.

Phryne's eyes widened in surprise, a smile slowly forming as she stepped in to him, "Oh Jack. Believe me, I intend to do a serious amount of research for this role," she reached out to stroke the side of his face. 

He covered her hand with his, drawing it to his lips to place one gentle kiss in her palm. "If this is to obtain my agreement to your involvement in the case, it's not necessary. You're right, it is too dangerous for an amateur, I would be grateful for your help. I'm stuck here another couple of nights but my notes are in the library at the Stanley residence, read them and perhaps we can debrief when I get back?" He knew he should let go of her hand but he didn't.

Phryne made no attempt to reclaim her hand. "Of course I'll help you solve this case but, this... this isn't about the investigation, this is about us. You came after me Jack."

He tilted his head, that wry smile forming, "Of course I did. Though - it would have been nice if you'd waited long enough for me to actually get here," his eyes twinkled as he released her hand.

"Well, yes, perhaps a slight miscalculation on my part," she admitted, letting her hand drop to her side.

He raised an eyebrow at her uncharacteristic admission of fault, "It doesn't matter Phryne, you're here now." To underline his point, running his hands through her hair, he lifted her head to kiss her.


	5. The Lake House

Phryne threw herself into the kiss without reservation. She reveled in the heat of Jacks body, the strength with which his arms held her tight against him. As his lips released hers, she looked directly into his eyes, "I want you Jack. I can't wait any longer."

Jack's first reaction to Phryne's statement was to curse himself. She had caught him off guard, he had not anticipated she would come back for him, never mind be here tonight. He had spoken without thinking, practically offered himself to her, he should have realised she would expect him to follow through immediately. Damn it - but he wasn't going to risk her misunderstanding his intentions, not when there was a house full of beautiful men who would give their eye teeth to have her. He'd try once for proprietary's sake. He nuzzled into her neck, "Phryne I can't leave tonight, but I'll be back in a couple of..."

"No Jack - now."

Well, that was pretty much the reaction he had expected. He looked over her shoulder at the lake house, lights had been strung around it for effect but it appeared unoccupied. "Right, I may need your lock pick," he grabbed Phryne's hand and strode to the house. Not surprised to find the door locked, he dropped into a crouch, holding his hand up. The lock pick was warm when she dropped it into his hand, he tried not to think about why. He had the door open in record time.

Grabbing her hand again, he pulled her swiftly inside. The light through the windows revealed a table and solitary chair. Not quite what he had been hoping for. The sound of the door closing had him spinning around. She was leaning back against the door, eyes shining, lips glistening. Somehow Jack found himself pressing her hard against the door, his tongue plundering her mouth. "You are... the most incredible person... I've ever known," he managed between kisses.

As his hands strayed from her bare shoulders to her hips pulling her tighter against him, he realised that the dress she was wearing was likely to be delicate. He thought about putting his tuxedo jacket over her shoulders to protect the dress but it felt counter intuitive to cover her up. Dragging himself away from her lips, he panted, "Your dress... stunning on you... don't want to damage it," he drew her away from the door, "Give me a second." Surprisingly Phryne acquiesced, stepping silently past him.

Jack slid the bolt across the door. Turning he found her beside the table. He slipped his jacket off, "Not exactly how I pictured this happening."

Phryne reached out to him, "I don't care." The lust in her eyes set his blood pounding. He backed her up against the table, reaching behind her to spread his jacket on the surface. When he placed his hands on her waist to lift her up he noticed she had bunched her dress up to the top of her thighs.

Once she was on the table he stepped quickly between her knees, one hand at the back of her head to support her as he kissed her again, the other cradling her backside so he could show her the rhythm he needed her to use against him. When they drew apart to breathe, he pulled back slightly moving his hands to the outside of her thighs, but letting his thumbs sit tantalisingly close to her core. He kissed her throat, "I want to touch you," his voice a low rumble.

Her reply was soft and uneven, "I need you to touch me."

He moved his hands below where her dress was gathered, running them up her bare skin until he could feel soft silk beneath his thumbs. Hot, wet, silk. She gasped as he touched her, rocking up to create more contact with his hands, spreading her legs wider. He slid his fingers under the silk at one side, swallowing hard when he came into contact with her wet curls. He looked at her then, hair disheveled, lipstick gone, eyes half closed, her face completely suffused with pleasure, "Your perfect... so perfect... perfect for me..." he whispered as he began to stroke the wetness from her core to her clit.

Phryne re-focused on his face, "More Jack, please..." she begged, trying to force more contact with his fingers each time they passed her opening.

Hearing how much she wanted him made him harder than he could believe. He let one finger rest in her warmth before slowly pushing it inside her. She was hot, and god - so slick, so...

Phryne rammed herself onto his finger, "More..." she demanded.

Jack came back to the moment, putting a second finger inside her and matching the rhythm of her movements. He heard her say "So good... feels so good Jack," before she leaned back on the table, propped up on her elbows.

Jack had never seen anything so erotic, never dreamed that such a thing could exist. Phyrne Fisher partially reclined on the table, dress bunched at the top of her thighs, eyes closed, mouth open, panting, as she impaled herself on his fingers. He swore softly, he wasn't going to be able to complete the act, he had no protection and he doubted he had the will power left to withdraw.

As if she read his mind she spoke again, "Want you inside me Jack," she held herself up, his fingers as deep inside her as they could be. When he tried to continue the rhythm she shook her head and he felt her clench around his fingers.

"I can't Phryne. I want to. More than anything I've ever wanted, but I wasn't expecting this. I haven't got anything..."

She began to pulse against his fingers again, "Want you. Want you," she chanted, driving him crazy with the need to remove his fingers and plunge his cock deep inside her.

He took a deep breath, placed his other hand on her pelvis to still her, "I can't, you know I can't. Please..." he begged, "this is torture."

She stopped, again at the point where his fingers were deepest, "It's alright, my device."

Fool! How had he managed to forget about her device? He pulled his fingers out of her, stepping back so he could grasp her underwear and help her wriggle out of it, before letting it fall down her legs to the ground. He undid his trouser buttons, grasping his cock to release it from his pants. It was rock hard, glistening at the tip. It felt so good to have some pressure on it he actually groaned when he wrapped his hand around it.

Jack swallowed hard, this was it then, finally, completely unexpected.

She spoke again, softly this time, reaching to run her fingertips down his face, "Jack? Please? Let me have you. I've waited so long, and I want you so much."

Jack turned his head to kiss her palm, placed one hand on her hip as the other held his cock at her entrance. Then he slowly leaned into her, feeling himself being enveloped in her warmth.

"Bloody hell Phryne! This is..."

She touched his face again, "Shush, no words. Just feel it," she whispered.

Jack felt it, he felt every inch of it, he felt it so much he thought he might stop breathing. When he was completely sheathed in her he just stopped, eyes closed, amazed by the sensation. His eyes flew open when she started to move.

"Enough standing still, I need you to move," she told him. He briefly wondered what had happened to the no talking rule, then he forgot everything but the way she was rubbing against him.

He grabbed her hips to pull her closer to the edge. He looked down to where they were joined and slowly pulled back, almost completely out of her. And then he slammed back into her, making her gasp, "Good Jack, good, again."

At that point he lost it, now there was only the feeling of pounding into her, feeling her clench around him, hearing her call his name. She was right, there was no need for words, just his grunts as he thrust into her, again and again. At some point he felt her tense, her heels digging into the back of his legs as she tried to hold him still, instinctively he let her grind herself against his immobile body. Then as her head lolled back, his name on her lips, he drove into her again.

He could feel the tightness building inside him, almost unbearable. He hoped that the moment when she had pulsed against him meant what he thought it did, because he couldn't hold back any longer. He felt selfish but he'd make it up to her, he just couldn't stop now. He felt her clench around him, digging her heels into him again, "Now Jack, now," she cried. He ground himself into her, hands on her hips to keep her pressed tight to him, as he filled her, panting her name over and over.

She stroked the back of his head, making him aware that he had collapsed on her, he nuzzled into the soft material of her dress where it covered her breasts. Then, as he moved to ease off her, "No," her arms tightened around him, "can I hold you just a little longer?" she asked softly.

"Forever if you want," he rumbled, though he took some of his weight off her. He felt like purring when she resumed her gentle stroking.

After a few moments she spoke again, voice still soft, "Jack, can I kiss you?" 

He chuckled against her, 'Can I kiss you?' there was nothing she couldn't do with him or to him now. He was hers completely, just as he knew he would be if this ever happened. He kissed a trail along the top of her dress and up her neck, adjusting his arms to take more of his weight as he went. He pulled her with him as he straightened up, until finally he could reach her lips. "I think a kiss would be acceptable," he grinned at her.

Phryne kissed him gently, touching her lips to his reverently before dropping her head to rest on his shoulder where she placed more little kisses on his neck. Her arms around him tightened and he felt warm, safe and wanted. This was as far from what he had been planning for their first time together as it was possible to get, but it was his own fault. He had somehow failed to take into account the endlessly variable factor that was her.

Still nestled into his neck she said something, but he was so lost in his own thoughts and contentment he missed it. "I said, I need to apologise to Isabella," repeated the small voice from somewhere below his jaw.


	6. The Tragedy

The library at the Stanley residence, whilst not well used, was large and comfortable. Currently the desk was covered with papers pulled from Jack's meticulously ordered files. Phryne leaned back in the chair to stretch, she had spent the last two hours reading. Whilst she had made notes on the missing field officer, it was the tragedy surrounding the Deburghs that fascinated her.

In 1912 the bodies of Anthony Deburgh and his wife Emilia were found in the front parlour of Deburgh Hall. They had both been shot. The police, alerted by an old family retainer, found evidence of a break in but with no leads the crime remained unsolved.

Anthony Deburgh had been the only child of an aristocratic family, a learned man, well thought of by his associates. Emilia, one of the most talked about debutantes of 1894, had a reputation for taking lovers prior to and throughout her marriage. Phryne looked at the photo included in the file. He gazed at his wife, adoration written in every angle of his face. She was looking directly at the camera, a careless smile on her face.

Catherine's account of her escape with James was detailed in notes that looked to have come from the original investigation. She had been fourteen at the time, James only eight. Awoken by her mother's screams, she had gathered her brother, and fled through french windows at the back of the house. They took refuge with their former Nanny, the woman who subsequently contacted the police.

Jack had made his own notes on the younger Deburghs. The estate, whilst profitable was considered too complex for the children to maintain and so it was sold off to provide for their living expenses. From the start Catherine had taken full responsibility for her brother, ensuring he obtained a proper education and mixed with others of the same social standing as their parents. She had made no attempt to enter Society herself.

Phryne thought back to pre-war Britain, it had been a very different place for women, for a start they hadn't even the right to vote. For a young girl to remain independent and in control of the welfare of her brother was an amazing achievement.

Having money helped obviously, but she would have needed to negotiate for that from a male guardian. A difficult balance as too many arguments would leave her open to allegations of being irrational, making her potentially unfit to care for James. No doubt she had made many painful compromises.

Phryne imagined Catherine had fought the sale of the estate, their home and only connection to their parents. Its loss must have been a blow for the two young orphans.

Only after James was settled in university did Catherine, now aged twenty five, look to her own future. She married Lord Reginald Fowler, one of the richest men in England. Twenty years older than his bride, by all accounts besotted with her, he purchased the old family estate as her betrothal gift. A wedding photo in the file showed Catherine leaning on the arm of an extremely respectable man.

Whatever happiness she had though was short lived, Lord Fowler died of an existing medical condition six months after the marriage.

Catherine and James immediately moved back to Deburgh Hall.

If Jack was right about James, it would devastate Catherine. Depending on the extent of his activity he could face a firing squad or the hangman's noose. Phryne cursed every worthless man to whom some unfortunate woman was selflessly devoted. The mothers, wives, daughters and sisters who sacrificed so much for men who let them down over and over.

Phryne paused, she too had risked her own happiness for such a man, when she had left Jack on that airfield to bring her father home. She shuddered to think how badly that could have gone wrong.

Never again she vowed.

*****

Jack was restless, he had hours before he could even consider changing for the evening, and probably a good few hours more before she would be here. Finally he decided to visit the library. It would be an interesting way to pass some time and, given what he had seen so far of his fellow guests, it was highly likely to be empty. A comfortable chair, a book and a bit of day dreaming about a certain lady detective. Perfect.

Happy with his plan he was already in the room before he saw Lady Fowler reclining on the chaise, book in hand. Immediately he turned to leave but she had seen him.

She lowered her book, "Mr Robinson? Please, there's no need to go."

"My apologies Lady Fowler, I won't disturb you," Jack was uncomfortably aware that they had yet to be formally introduced, though clearly as she knew his name, James had mentioned him.

She repeated her invitation, "Please?" she gestured at the books that lined the walls, "It's pleasant to know someone other than me is enjoying them."

Jack, deciding her invitation was genuine and that it would be impolite to withdraw, moved towards the shelves. He would find something quickly and retire to his room, or perhaps he could find a spot outside to read. He nodded his thanks to Lady Fowler.

The moment he started to read the titles however all thought of a hasty retreat was forgotten as he lost himself in the books. Scanning for familiar works, he used them to determine the filing system. Then, he returned to those sections that held topics he was interested in. When this didn't narrow things down enough he decided it should be something that he could dip into so he wasn't distracted from the case. With regret he discounted the larger volumes and those that covered weightier topics. He returned to the essay collections, short but interesting. Reviewing the titles again, he moved soundlessly in front of the shelf before finally reaching out to remove his chosen book.

Jack had never had access to a collection like this, the amount of knowledge it contained was almost overwhelming. Turning he saw Lady Fowler was watching him. Feeling obliged to make conversation he asked, "Do you know much about the history of the library?"

"It was my fathers," she replied, "Fortunately it was still intact when Lord Fowler repurchased the estate. It was my fathers pride and joy, he spent most of his time here with his books."

Still caught up in his excitement at being set loose amongst so many interesting books, Jack spoke without thinking, "He must have been a happy man." The moment the words were out of his mouth he realised they might bring up unpleasant memories.

Lady Fowler dropped her gaze to the book now resting in her lap, "He was the happiest person you could ever meet. Between this library and my mother, he had everything he wanted in life," Lady Fowler glanced at him, "I assume you are aware of the circumstances of their deaths?"

Feeling awkward, Jack nodded, desperately searching for something to say that would make things right.

Fortunately she spoke first, "I'm sorry Mr Robinson, I didn't mean to become melancholy. Please tell me, what have you chosen?"

Jack grasped wholeheartedly at the change of subject, "It's a collection of the articles of G K Chesterton. Of course you'll be familiar with his work?"

"Mr Robinson, I live in London - it's practically built on the writings of Chesterton," she sat forward, "You've read 'On Running After Ones Hat'?"

Jack gave a less than enthusiastic response.

"Oh, you didn't enjoy it, do you think his approach too flippant?"

Jack thought about her comment, "Obviously it's well written it's... well... to be honest," he looked a bit ashamed, "I found the fact his friend didn't just fix the drawer annoying."

Lady Fowler's lips twitched in amusement, "How very practical of you Mr Robinson. But still you must agree with his overall proposition? You don't strike me as a man to fret about things unnecessarily."

Jack paused to remember the detail of the article in question, a wry smile forming as something occurred to him, "I definitely agree with his sentiment that inconvenience is an adventure wrongly considered." That was about the best description of Miss Fisher that he could imagine. He wondered why he had never thought of it before.

"Well I'm glad he's not beyond all redemption," she said as she stood to leave, "You're certainly better read than the people James generally invites to his little gatherings. Enjoy your evening Mr Robinson"


	7. Unexpected Engagements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all your positive comments and support - I'm really enjoying this experience.

Jack looked wistfully across the room at the whiskey decanter. The young lady he was currently dancing with was relentless, constantly weaving herself around him, making it nearly impossible to maintain any semblance of decency. Finally, the song ended and he extracted himself as gracefully as he could. He suspected he should be enjoying his sudden popularity but he was actually bored, not one of the women he had danced with had even tried to converse with him. Clearly the 'affair' with Isabella had been protecting him from all this nonsense.

Eyes returning to the decanter, he headed across to get a large drink, find a quiet corner and consider how to prevent unwanted female attention impacting on his investigation.

James hailed Jack as he wandered past, "Robinson! A word please?"

With his back to James, Jack swore silently before turning, a warm smile plastered on his face.

Standing beside her brother, Lady Fowler spoke first, "James tells me you had a very successful day at the shoot Mr Robinson. You didn't mention it when we spoke earlier."

"Mostly due to the excellent management of your gamekeepers," Jack assured her, the warmth in his expression no longer fake.

James smirked, "You're far too modest Jack. Now tell me, are you riding with us tomorrow?"

Jack shook his head, "Unfortunately, I don't have a hunter so I'll be a spectator." He was hoping that Phryne would join him to watch the hunt leave and then they could retire to the local pub with the rest of the non-participants. He had plans that would require a dark corner, the sort that English pubs specialised in.

After a quick glance at his sister James said, "Nonsense. You can ride one of mine."

Lady Fowler laid her hand on her brothers arm, "Darling, don't forget to provide Mr Robinson with the appropriate clothing as well." Then, surrounded as always by her beautiful young men, she drifted away.

"Interesting. That is quite possibly the first conversation she's ever initiated with one of my friends," James' voice came from over his shoulder, making Jack aware that he had unconsciously turned to watch her leave. He abruptly spun back to his host.

"We met earlier, in the library," Jack explained.

"Oh," James looked taken aback. Then, in a voice that was only half joking, "Now look here my dear fellow, I hope you have no nefarious designs on my sister. I'm afraid that I'm too used to having all of her attention, can't have another man steal her away from me."

Damn, thought Jack, the last thing he needed was for James to mistrust him, "I assure you I have no intentions of any sort. In fact I proposed to Miss Fisher last night and we'll be heading back to Melbourne in the next month or so." Reaching out to take two glasses of champagne from a server fortuitously passing, Jack handed one to James.

Christ, had he just said that? Jack got a sinking feeling in his stomach, he was not looking forward to explaining this to Phryne. He took a large gulp of champagne.

James though looked instantly relieved, "Well then, my congratulations on the end of a successful campaign," James raised his glass to Jack. "Now, next week we're having a few friends stay in the lead up to Catherine's ball. Care to join us?"

*****

Phryne was glad when Jack grabbed her hand as soon as she entered the room. She was unsure what changes he had made to his cover story as a result of her behaviour on the dance floor last night, but she was prepared to play along with whatever he had come up with.

"Miss Fisher, quickly before anyone sees you," Jack practically dragged her up the stairs, opening a door for her to step through. Phyrne looked around, this was clearly Jacks room. She watched Jack searching for something in his case, then he turned towards her holding a small jewelry box in his hand. Phryne looked from the box in his hand to his face, surely he wasn't about to...

"I'm sorry about this but I've had to tell James that we got engaged last night."

Phryne looked from his face to the box, "That's very sweet, though there's really no need to protect my reputation."

Jack looked at her quizzically, then blushed as he realised what she was referring too, "Oh... that's not ..."

"Jack, I'm only teasing," Phryne enjoyed getting a glimpse of her proper Detective Inspector from beneath the worldly persona he had adopted.

He took a deep breath, "To be honest, it's more to protect my honour than yours. This is like swimming with sharks. I've barely been allowed off the dance floor tonight and James is starting to worry about my intentions towards his sister.

He opened the box. Inside was a gold ring with an intricate split shank decorated with blue enamel that surrounded a large cushion cut diamond. Phryne immediately recognised it as early Victorian, which was confirmed when Jack said, "If anyone asks say it was my grandmothers." Phryne thought about that for a moment casting an enquiring glance at Jack but he was taking the ring out of it's box. Reaching for her hand, he slipped it on her finger, "That helps, it's a perfect fit."

And if Phryne's heart skipped a beat, as she took her hand back to admire how well the ring suited her, that was really no ones concern but hers. After all, it was for the investigation.


	8. The Hunt

Phryne, Guy and Isabella arrived late to see the hunt leave. Given Guy's aversion to equine activity Phryne was frankly amazed they had made it all. She had only managed to cajole Isabella into action with the promise of men in riding attire. 

The scene in front of the stables was alive with dogs barking, horses chaffing and loud chatter. Phyrne sought Jack amongst the riders, she was worried how he would carry this off. She heard him before she saw him, spinning to where he was emerging from the stables walking a beautiful black horse, chatting easily to the stable hand. He looked relaxed and comfortable with the situation. He also looked incredibly desirable, in fact Phryne suddenly realised she was holding her breath. 

"I'd say that man of yours is a horse whisperer. I've never seen that horse look so calm." Phryne was surprised to find James standing beside her "Sorry, how rude of me, we haven't been formally introduced. I'm James Deburgh and you are the Phryne Fisher I've heard so much about." 

Tall, athletic, fair, he was every bit as beautiful as his sister. 

Phryne smiled, "It's a wonderful home you have here." 

He grinned, "Catherine is Lord and Master of all you survey here," he looked around obviously relishing everything he saw, "When our parents were alive it was self supporting. Much harder to achieve now a days of course but my very clever sister is almost there." 

His pride in his sister's abilities was obvious and Phryne's opinion of the man immediately increased. 

The tempo of the surrounding noises changed as the hunt prepared to depart. "Right, looks like its time to be off. I better be on my game otherwise your beloved will sneak away with another prize," James winked at her as he walked towards his horse. 

Phryne followed him with her eyes, until she saw Jack. He was standing with Lady Fowler and Phryne was struck by what an attractive couple they made. Lady Fowler was oblivious to the boys that crowded her ready to offer assistance, her eyes were fixed firmly on Jack. For a moment Phryne wished she could see Jack's eyes but, as he helped Lady Fowler mount her horse, she thought it was probably just as well she couldn't. The woman was spectacular. 

Then Jack swung lightly into his own saddle, controlling his horse with no effort, and Phryne almost laughed when she realised that she had been holding her breath again. 

***** 

When Phryne looked for Jack after the hunt she found him standing between James and his sister, surrounded by the normal entourage. Lady Fowler's cheeks were flushed, eyes sparkling and her hand was resting on his arm as she spoke excitedly, no doubt about something that had happened whilst they'd been riding. Jack's smile was wide and warm, then he leaned in to whisper something into her ear. Her laugh, clear and ringing, made her brother glance at her in surprise. Jack chose that moment to look around, saw Phryne standing quietly a small distance from her cousin, said his farewells and moved towards her. Lady Fowler watched Jack walk away. James tried to claim her attention, but she shook her head at him, continuing to gaze at Jack. 

"Phryne, I didn't see you before we left this morning. I was worried you wouldn't be here," Jack gave her his shy half smile then kissed her gently on the cheek. 

"Well, if being engaged encourages public displays of affection I may just hang on to this ring Jack Robinson," Phryne smiled into his eyes to show her approval of his behaviour. "I must say, I thoroughly approve of your riding attire. Tell me Jack, wherever did you learn to ride like that?" 

"Oh you know," he leaned in to whisper into her ear, "spy school." 

Phryne laughed, "How wonderful. What other hidden skills do you have I wonder?" her eyes assessing him from under her lashes. 

"You're welcome to interrogate me, be warned though, I won't break easily," he said, reaching for her hand and entwining their fingers, "I need to get out of these ridiculous clothes, any chance you would like to help me?" he lifted his eyebrow at her invitingly. 

Phryne was delighted, "I consider that to be clearly within my role of fiancee."


	9. The Seduction

Back at the Stanley residence Jack contemplated Phryne who was currently perched on the library desk beside him. The sight was so familiar he thought Collins might walk in at any moment. The fact she had moved into his room had been unexpected, though any initial concern on his part had been overcome by the thought of spending all night with her beside him. He was looking forward to it. A lot.  


"Jack, we should talk about the next step in the investigation," Phryne leaned back on her hands letting her legs, which were crossed at the ankle, swing "You need to gain James' complete confidence and it occurs to me there is a quick way to do that."  


"What are you thinking?"  


"You could seduce Lady Fowler," she said casually.  


Jack almost laughed out loud. To think, thirty seconds ago he had been worried about sharing a room with her, "Phryne, you cannot be serious."  


"Trust me, this is the easiest way to gain James' confidence. He clearly adores his sister and anyone who makes her happy will be important to him."  


Jack refused to take her suggestion seriously, "Seducing suspects is your area of expertise not mine. I could never take advantage of an innocent woman."  


"Oh Jack, I imagine its been a long time since anyone called Lady Fowler innocent, she is a thoroughly modern woman her heart will not be at risk," Phryne was tickled by his description of Lady Fowler.  


Jack stilled, considering the implications of her words, the last few days had been amazing but... was she telling him that whilst her body was his for now, her heart never would be? He shook his head, there was little to be gained in attempting to second guess Phryne Fisher, so he decided to focus on the problem with her plan, "Actually, I think she's a conventional woman. She's just had to adapt in order to provide for her brother."  


The look on Phryne's face told him that she disagreed with his assessment, "Jack I've seen the way she looks at you, its obvious she's interested," Phryne leaned in to stroke his arm, surprised when he pulled away as though burnt.  


"It isn't right to trifle with a person's affections," Jack wasn't entirely sure whether he was talking about Lady Fowler or himself.  


Phryne looked at him confused, "A little bit of gallant flirting is all it would take. I'm certainly not suggesting anything more."  


Jack stared down at his hands, he had no intention of attempting to seduce Lady Fowler though he would happily talk literature with her anytime. In any event James had already made it clear that would be unacceptable to him. It was time for a change of topic, maybe to something they could both agree on. Moving quickly, he pulled Phryne into his lap.  


He silenced Phryne's squeal with his lips. When he finally released her she snuggled into him, dropping kisses along his jaw and down his throat. Her fingers began to undo the buttons on his shirt, her lips moving to caress his skin as it was revealed.  


"Now, about this seduction."  


Jack gave up, clearly they were going to have this conversation now, "Fine, I'll brush up on my Shakespeare so I can whisper sweet nothings in her ear. Is that what you want to hear?"  


Phryne began to trace patterns on Jack's chest with her finger tips, "Trust me Jack, do this and James will tell you everything."

*****  


Jack was enjoying himself, Lady Fowler was exceptionally good company. They had just spent the last hour discussing books they had in common. He leaned forward in the arm chair, eyes eager "I always wanted to go to University, but my circumstances didn't allow it. Did you go?"  


Lady Fowler leaned back on the chaise, closing her eyes, "I tried once, after Lord Fowler passed away but... well, it was clear that the majority of the staff and students didn't want a woman there." She opened her eyes, acknowledging the look of surprise in his eyes, "I know. But Mr Robinson I'd been fighting expectations since I was fourteen and for the first time..." she shrugged her shoulders, "I couldn't find the energy."  


Jack nodded, he understood. After the war he had struggled to care. It had lost him Rosie, friends and the happy ever after he had longed for. "I felt like that after the war. I threw myself into work, it was the only thing that made me feel worthwhile."  


She looked at him for a long moment, "I threw myself into a never ending string of meaningless affairs. Your approach was probably more useful."  


Jack shrugged, a wry smile forming on his lips, "Your approach was probably more fun."  


Lady Fowler laughed in a very unladylike fashion, holding her sides as she fought to gain control of herself.  


When she had almost recovered Jack, tilting his head and giving her a shy half smile said "You might as well call me Jack."  


She regarded him carefully before replying, "Thank you, and you must call me Catherine."  


Smiling they relaxed into a less formal atmosphere, speaking about the topics they would have studied at University had their lives been different.  


After a while, leaning back into the chaise again Catherine looked at Jack through her eyelashes, "I should tell you Jack, when I first saw you I suspected you of leading James astray."  


Jack's surprise was obvious.  


Quickly she moved to assure him, "I know I was wrong. Can you forgive me?"  


"There's nothing to forgive, you were worried about James I understand that," he shrugged his shoulders.  


"He's been acting strangely for the last few months and... well, the timing of your meeting seemed right. And of course there is that hint of scandal about your past career..." she paused for a moment but, as he gave no indication that he wanted to talk about it, she decided to leave that mystery for another time. Moving on then, "It's probably nothing. Perhaps he's met a woman and doesn't know how to tell me."  


Jack made a non-committal noise. He was concerned for Catherine, she had invested everything in James and it was clear she had no idea what he was involved in. He wanted to make it right for her but he didn't know how to. She didn't deserve to lose another person that she loved.  


*****  


Captain Leonard Brown applied the training of a life time to consider the woman who boldly marched into his office. Her clothes were elegant yet, while the colours and fabric were undoubtedly feminine, the movement they allowed was masculine. She wore a lot of expensive jewelry, and carried it well. Her hair and make up were faultless. She moved with the barely constrained energy of a person never still.  


Her eyes, flicked quickly around the room and over him, clearly assessing him too. The smile that broke upon her face, indicated she found him acceptable.  


Five minutes later, his head spinning slightly the Captain got a chance to speak "So Miss Fisher if I may recap, you believe the answer lies in solving the Deburgh murders? And you would like access to the original files and investigators whilst Inspector Robinson continues his undercover investigation?"  


"Correct, Jack is going to focus on gaining James' confidence..."  


"By seducing his sister..."  


"That's right, and I'll uncover the european contact..."  


"By solving a twenty year old murder case."  


"Exactly," she exclaimed happily, "The moment I laid eyes on you I could tell you were an intelligent man."  


Brown looked at her in open admiration, he really wouldn't be surprised if she did solve the case, after all Robinson's faith in her was not something easily dismissed. Which reminded him, Mrs Brown had reliably informed him that Miss Fisher's highly inappropriate engagement to an ex-thief taker from the colonies was the latest society gossip.  


"Right, I'll get my second best man to round up the men you want to interview and bring you the old case notes," he said returning her smile.  


"Your second best man?" she queried, her smile wavering.  


"Well," nodding significantly at the eye catching ring on her hand, "it appears you already have complete command of my best."  


Phryne gave him her biggest smile.


	10. Literary Conversations

A tennis competition had been arranged by some of the more athletic of James' guests. The non-players lounged under the shelter of a marquee, occasionally interrupting their conversations to applaud a particularly skillful move. Jack wandered across from the verandah, drink in hand, to watch the games.

James, standing just within the marquee with a small group, raised his glass in greeting to Jack and moved to meet him. "We were just talking about you." Jack raised an eyebrow. "About the smashing ring you gave Miss Fisher," he clarified.

"My grandmothers," Jack said, taking a sip of his drink and wondering where this was going.

James seemed to consider his response deeply, looking down at the cigarette in his hand, "Well I hope she'll give it back if things don't work out. I'd hate to see you lose a family heirloom."

Jack almost choked on his drink, "I'm sure it won't come to that."

James sniggered, "Sorry old man, didn't mean to upset you." Again he seemed enthralled by his cigarette, "Are you sure though, that this is the best you can do? She may be the sole child of a Baron, but I understand there's every chance that the estate will be mortgaged to the hilt before she inherits. Don't get me wrong she's a pretty thing but..." he shrugged, "there's never any shortage of pretty."

Now completely confused Jack had no option but to play along, "She has her own money, so anything she gets from her father is a bonus."

James lifted his arms in a parody of surrender, "Oh, is it a love match? My mistake, I apologise. It's just the way you were carrying on with her cousin's wife..."

Damn, thought Jack, the change in cover story was complicating things again, "I'm not a rich man James, I can't squander my opportunities."

James looked delighted, "I knew I was right," he touched his index finger to his nose, "don't worry, your secret's safe with me. But look, I have a business opportunity that may interest you, and means you needn't rush into this marriage. It could give you sufficient breathing space to consider other... options."

Jack raised his eyebrow, what had happened to the 'what are your intentions' speech from the other night?

"Can't go into details now, and you mustn't mention it to Catherine. Meet me tonight in the drawing room after supper? Then we'll head out to meet my associates." James wandered back to his other guests.

*****

Contemplating Catherine over his whiskey glass Jack wondered whether they would be able to remain friends after the investigation, sighing he realised that was highly unlikely.

Catherine misinterpreted the sigh, "Thinking of your lovely Miss Fisher?"

Which immediately made him think of her, his face softening, "Always" he replied.

"Will you tell me about her Jack?"

"I wouldn't know where to start," he said honestly, "When she's with me everything is somehow brighter... more exciting... more... more everything..." he gave a wry smile at how foolish he sounded, "I'm sorry, that really doesn't make much sense."

"It's wonderful," she said sincerely, "especially since it's obvious she feels the same way."

Jack's heart leapt at the thought that the mercurial Miss Fisher might ever feel the same way for him. It was a beguiling prospect. Becoming aware that she was watching him with an amused look on her face, he dragged himself back from his day dreaming, "What about you, did you never think to marry again?"

She tilted her head, clearly considering how to respond. "Don't think badly of me but... I only married because I was tired. Tired of being alone, of having to manipulate people, of supporting James... Lord Fowler was a good man, he loved me and wanted to take care of me, of me and James." She searched Jacks face for any form of judgement, and was relieved to see only acceptance.

"You've been on your own for a long time now. I can't believe you haven't found someone else."

"But I haven't been alone, you know that," she pointed out.

"Is that quite the same thing?"

She stared at him, "My current..." she searched for the right word, "situation allows me to retain control." He nodded, but it was clear he didn't understand. She tried to explain, "I don't think I could be with someone now, on a permanent basis I mean. And, well my experience of love is very different from what you have with Miss Fisher. My father loved my mother with his entire soul, she rewarded him by inviting a constant stream of men into her bed."

"You told me he was happy," Jack pointed out.

"He was. He didn't care about the other men as long as she loved him," she said sadly.

"And did she love him?" he asked softly.

"Does that really matter?" a hint of bitterness entered her voice as she lowered her eyes to the book resting in her lap.

Jack watched, waiting patiently for her to continue.

She started to speak again, "She made him a laughing stock. And then she took him away from us. But even that wasn't enough for her, she's tainted everything and no matter what I do... how hard I try... I can't make it right, not for me and not for James." When she looked up, Jack could clearly see the scared and confused fourteen year old child she had been that night.

He instinctively moved to sit beside her, brushing the tears from her eyes. They sat in silence, side by side, for a long time. Finally, Lady Fowler gave in to the overwhelming need to shelter in the arms of the quiet, thoughtful man beside her.

Jack held her, stroking her back gently as she wept against him.


	11. Secret Liaisons

Phryne watched Jack walking swiftly towards the copse. She calculated where he was headed and, once he had disappeared from sight, she moved in a silent arc to approach him unawares. She was still ten feet away when, without turning he spoke, "Miss Fisher, do you intend to skulk in the woods all night?"

She made a sound of frustration, "How do you do that?"

He turned smiling, "I always know when you're near me Phryne." He held a hand out to her, pleased when she took it immediately, allowing him to pull her body into his. He tightened his arms around her before dipping his head to place a gentle kiss on her lips.

"I've missed you," she said, resting her forehead against his, "I know it's only been two days and one night, but I've missed you Jack." Her words were so unexpected he wasn't sure he'd heard them correctly. He kissed her again, though it was far from gentle this time. Eventually Phryne forced herself to pull back from his embrace, "Jack, the case, we need to discuss it. Tell me about your undercover work."

He released her reluctantly, "Well, the good news is l'm accompanying James to a clandestine business meeting this evening."

"And the seduction?" she prompted.

"Phryne, you know I was never going to try to seduce her."

She gave him an exasperated look, "Have you at least tried to talk to her?"

"Catherine," Phryne was startled at his use of Lady Fowler's first name, "and I meet in the library every day before dinner."

She raised her eyebrows.

"We talk about books," he said defensively.

Phryne's eyebrows lifted even further, this time in amusement, "Oh Jack, only you could prefer literary conversations to seduction."

"You know it would never have worked, I'm not some dashing romantic hero that can just walk in and sweep a woman off her feet."

She laughed, but only because it was infinitely funny when a detective as skilled as Jack was so wrong.

Jack gazed back towards the Hall sadly, "She spoke about her mother tonight," he sighed deeply, "she was very upset."

Phryne looked at him thoughtfully, if Lady Fowler was talking to him about her parents, perhaps? Yes, of course. Jack's true charm was that he made you feel safe, that he never judged you and this encouraged you to reveal your true self. She reached up to kiss him proudly on the cheek. She wouldn't tell him that the seduction was proceeding to plan, it would only upset him.

Sensing the conversation was over, he changed the topic, "How did your meeting with Brown go?"

She clapped her hands delightedly, "Excellent. He gave me everything I asked for, including a very fetching young man who is commanded to meet my every whim. I'm afraid when we get back home to Melbourne you will find my expectations of official support have increased markedly."

Jack smiled, he liked to hear her talk about their future, "When we return home I plan to personally ensure that you receive all the support you need, in every capacity," he promised her.

"I'm counting on it Inspector," she said breathlessly, eyes shining.

*****

Jack followed James down the dark alley way, "Your business premises are a bit off, I prefer something more civilised myself."

"Not far now Jack," James turned, "Look it's probably best if you leave the talking to me, these chaps can be a bit temperamental." Then as he stopped by a battered warehouse door, "You don't speak German by any chance?"

Jack followed James through the door, "German? Sure, let me know when you want to ask about the weather or the way to the train station..."

James chuckled, "I don't think they're talking about trains."

They stepped into a large warehouse that looked like an abandoned printing works. There were rows of large machines, at least three deep, either side of an empty sixty by twenty foot space. James walked towards the office door at the far end. Once in the office Jack did a quick survey, the door they had come through was the only one, though there was a small window high in the wall to his left. At the desk a man sat behind a telegraph machine, to his right stood two more men.

"You are late," the man standing on the far right spoke. Jack couldn't place his accent but he was clearly not English, and he was clearly in charge. "Have you the information discussed?" the same man demanded.

Reaching into his pocket James replied, "Yes, of course," pulling out an envelope which he handed to the seated man. The seated man opened it, scanned it and nodded. The third man handed James a stack of notes. James indicated to Jack that it was time to leave. They didn't speak until they were back on the main street.

"What the hell was that?" Jack asked incredulously.

James, face flushed with excitement, turned to him "Don't worry, they're completely harmless, they just have a penchant for the dramatic. All I do is provide them with information that is freely available," he flagged down a cab. "Don't think me ungrateful but I don't want to be financially dependent on a woman, even one as extraordinary as Catherine." Then, with his back to Jack as he reached out to open the cab door, he said, "Anyway, it's money for old rope, there's no harm in it."

Jack clenched his fists and took a deep breath, he knew exactly how much harm James had already caused, and it was taking all of his self control not to strike him.


	12. Agent Jones

Agent Jones, reposing in an arm chair in the Stanley library, gazed at the attractive woman he had been commanded to assist in every way. He certainly appreciated what he saw and had done his best to indicate that he considered that to include any physical needs she may have. He was somewhat offended that his hints had been ignored so far. He tried not to let it hurt his pride.

He was also confused. Over the last three days they had; interviewed as many of the original police officers involved in the Deburgh case, as could be located; tracked down the case notes from the murder investigation, now sitting in several boxes on the floor by the desk; and then, for reasons he really could not fathom, the desk itself was covered in the various Society papers he had been asked to source. The delectable Miss Fisher was currently leafing through these creating piles. He wondered if she would go dancing at one of the London clubs with him tonight.

Phryne cast her eyes across to where Agent Jones sat, indolently beautiful in his chair. Working with him was mildly frustrating - it was obvious he did not take her investigation seriously, but... he was so very handsome and clearly willing. All muscular limbs, tan skin and sandy blond hair. She knew exactly what would happen, they would go dancing, he would whisper charming nonsense in her ear and then they would sleep together. But not quite yet. Right now there was still work to be done.

She turned back to her notes on the desk. Emilia Deburgh had been a fascinating woman. The product of an unconventional upbringing, she was raised in Palestine by her archaeologist father who clearly had no idea regarding the appropriate education of a young lady. At seventeen she returned to England for her debutante year. She had been a stunning success, a heady combination of English beauty and exotic mannerisms, half the eligible men in London declared themselves hopelessly in love with her. Including Anthony Deburgh.

At the end of the year she had returned to her father. Living a far more sophisticated life then previously, it was obvious from the hints in the Society papers that she reveled in her newly discovered power over men. Deburgh had waited three months before following her out. She refused his offer of marriage, citing her housekeeping commitment to her father, but really she was enjoying her lovers too much to commit to one man.

Over the next few years there were articles describing her waltzing on the pyramids in Egypt, living in a harem in Turkey and riding a boat down the Ganges, to name but a few. Every story contained details of the men who shared her adventures, but at the end of every journey she returned to Deburgh, now firmly ensconced with her father in Palestine. And every time he took her back, her constant companion until she left on her next great love affair.

Then, when she was twenty, her father died leaving her adrift and undefended. Things got worse as the truth of the estate was revealed, she had barely enough money to return to England. Deburgh seized his chance, offering marriage but with no requirement of fidelity. The compromise was enough to make it tenable for her.

For fourteen years she scandalised London Society with her affairs. Phryne recognised the behaviour of an intelligent and capable woman stifled by the boundaries she was forced to exist within. Phryne's eyes rested on the piles in front of her. She had originally been looking for a spurned lover but patterns had begun to emerge. Most men made a single appearance but a handful appeared multiple times, always influential men such as politicians, industrialists and scientists. James had mentioned the estate had been self supporting. But from what Phryne had seen, unlike Catherine, neither Emilia or Anthony had been financially astute or even vaguely interested in business.

From the start Phryne had had a feeling that the murders and the missing operative were connected in some way. A woman bored and missing the excitement of her youth would find the world of espionage enticing. Was it possible she had been selling intelligence on her lovers? She may not have realised the suffering her actions caused. Or perhaps she just didn't care. Certainly it seemed she cared little for how her romances might affect her family. Phryne shook her head, he should never have married her, a woman like that should have been left wild and free.

She began to deconstruct the piles, applying her knowledge of the men connected with Emilia, or more accurately her intimate knowledge of their sons. Now she had three piles, never, likely and highly likely. "Agent Jones I need you to look through these," she indicated the likely and high likely piles, "tell me if you recognise any of the faces or names."

Jones stood slowly to enable her to appreciate the grace and flexibility of his body as he stretched. He then placed himself so close his leg rested against hers as he leaned over to look at the papers. After a while he placed a hand on her shoulder, caressing it absent mindedly, as he worked his way through the piles. She made no effort to dissuade him, she liked the way it felt.

Then with a sharp intake of breath he straightened, picking up one of the papers. As he read the article and examined the photo he began to stride slowly back and forth, thinking aloud, "I've seen this man before though I don't recognise the name they've given. He's supposed to be in America right now but we know he was active in England before the war. If he was known to Emilia it's possible that he has contacted her son and the boy has been foolish enough to get involved. Miss Fisher, I think you're actually on to something here."

Phryne enjoyed watching him move, admiring the way his fringe fell across his eyes each time he turned. She could tell he would be an excellent dancer, men like him always were. There would be no surprises with Agent Jones, he was exactly what he looked like. He wouldn't have all those delicious layers, that a woman could drown in, like Jack did. But Jack wasn't here and Agent Jones was.

"There's something else," she said reaching down for Emilia's postmortem notes, "cause of death is noted here as a gun shot wound but," she scrambled through another box of notes, "the crime scene descriptions suggest her throat was cut." Jones took the proffered papers and Phryne noticed that his eyes were a beautiful shade of hazel. As he read, he unconsciously ran his hand through his hair, leaving it adorably tousled. It was an action so reminiscent of Jack that a shot of pure lust ran through her.

"Miss Fisher we need to speak to the Captain," he glanced at her, not at all expecting the naked hunger he saw in her eyes. Quick to make the most of the opportunity though, he moved closer to her, reaching down to tuck her hair behind her ear as she gazed up at him. His voice was low and suggestive, "And then later, perhaps we can go dancing to celebrate?"

Phryne stood up, so close to him now that their bodies were almost touching. Jones found himself mesmerised, she was magnificent. "You are a very attractive man and I'm truly flattered. But... " she smiled at him, "you're not Jack Robinson." For all his good looks and modern ideals, he simply wouldn't measure up to her very Victorian Detective Inspector. Taking the papers from his hand she strode from the room.

Agent Jones stood there for a little longer thinking Inspector Robinson was one very lucky man.


	13. The Birthday Present

Lady Fowlers birthday ball was the event of the season and Deburgh Hall was full to bursting with the rich and elegant. Jack stood watching Phryne spin around the dance floor with another beautiful young man. He wondered briefly whether there was a factory that produced all these variations on a theme specifically to distribute across London dances. 

He had been delayed by James who wanted to talk about his business opportunity, as he insisted on describing it. Jack had stayed long enough to agree to a repeat meeting and to confirm time and date. It meant he hadn't had a chance yet to ask Phryne to dance and the dress she was wearing tonight was making it impossible for him to think about anything but having her in his arms. 

"Jack?" Lady Fowler spoke softly from beside him. He managed not to jump - just. It had been a long time since someone had been able to approach him unawares. He wondered if it was because he had been distracted by his contemplation of Phryne, or if Lady Fowler had a special talent. He determined to keep an eye on her. "Jack, may I have this dance?" she asked. 

Turning to face her, "It would be my honour," he extended his hand to her, "Happy birthday Catherine." 

She gave him a dazzling smile as she held his hand, moving with him to the centre of the floor. As he went to take her in his arms Jack noticed that everyone else was leaving the floor. When there was only the two of them left, she leaned in close, "Its my birthday waltz," she whispered, "and my present is to spend it in your arms." 

"Then I will do my best not to disappoint," he said gallantly. 

It was Phryne's turn to watch this time and, as they moved together flawlessly, once again she was struck by how well they looked together. She also noticed Lady Fowler stayed as close to Jack as she could without impeding the dance. 

"I'd say you've got competition there Miss Fisher," James had come to stand beside her, his eyes on the couple spinning, slow and close, around the dance floor. "Personally I think you may as well quit the field gracefully, I have never seen Catherine look at a man the way she looks at Jack." He leaned in bringing his mouth close to her ear, "You're a beautiful woman in your own right but she is spectacular. Do try not to judge him too harshly, I don't doubt that he did care for you," he straightened, "it's just it would take something special to resist her." 

On the dance floor, encircled by Jack's strong arms Lady Fowler's eyes were shining, her lips soft with happiness, her svelte body glimmering in a dark blue gown. She was quite simply the most beautiful woman Phryne had ever seen. And then Phryne knew that she had miscalculated - badly. Jack had tried to tell her Lady Fowler wasn't a modern woman but she hadn't listened. And now Lady Fowler had fallen in love with him. 

She started to worry, Lady Fowler was more beautiful than her, younger and, now she knew, more conventional. Once Jack realised what had happened would he be tempted? Marriage and a family... it was all there for him to take. But Jack had always had other options; Concetta, Angela and of course Rosie. Phyrne had no doubt, had he wished to, he could easily have won back his former wife. No woman would take shiny Sidney over slow burning Jack. 

But he had eschewed those willing women, and goodness knows how many others, for her - Phryne Fisher. He had wanted her from their first meeting, she had always known that, delighting in the desire he made little effort to hide. When he had made it equally clear he would not succumb to his desire it had fascinated her. Yes, he had wanted her for a long time, but now? Well to be blunt, he had had her. How much allure remained now her mystery had been solved? 

Jack was enjoying the dance. Catherine was an excellent partner, flowing effortlessly around him. Taller than Phryne, her eyes almost level with his, it made waltzing with her easier. Of course, because she wasn't Phryne, he didn't need to keep thinking of ways to surprise her, to keep the look of entrancement on her face. It meant he could relax which was... well... nice.

"You are a divine dancer Jack," Catherine sighed, "I wish we could be like this forever." As Jack let his lips move into a smile she moved her hand from his shoulder to caress his face, stroking her thumb along his cheekbone. He covered her hand with his, holding it there for a moment before he moved it back into the dance. 

Phryne's heart leapt and with eyes blazing she turned to James, "I suspect Lady Fowler has never met a man like Jack Robinson before." 

"Well I admire your faith in him Miss Fisher but, if it doesn't turn out how you hope, I'll be glad to offer you solace," he smirked before moving away. 

She let her eyes follow Jack through the rest of the dance. She really needed to learn not to underestimate him. 

***** 

When the dance finished Jack guided Catherine back to her brother and her cloud of beautiful men before striding directly to Phryne. 

"Jack, I've made an important discovery that I need to share with you," she whispered excitedly as he greeted her with a chaste kiss. 

"Right, come with me," he put an arm around her waist steering her towards the verandah. Outside Jack pulled her into a private space along the garden walk. Phryne explained what she had discovered about the Emilia and the European connection. She finished by showing him the article and photo. Jack nodded his head, recognising the man with the unusual accent, "Yes, that's one of the men I saw, it all fits." 

She continued, "Captain Brown knows him and it's given him an idea of where they're holding his man. He's arranged for a team to go in early tomorrow morning," she paused, her voice becoming hesitant, "The only thing is, I don't think any of this is related to the Deburgh murders." A shadow passed across Jack's face, worrying her. Had she disappointed him? She swore to herself she wouldn't give up until she'd identified the murderer. 

Sensing her concern he reassured her, "Don't worry you'll solve the murders but you were right to focus on the missing man, he was most important." He reached inside his dinner jacket, handing her a slip of paper with an address on it, "Bring the police to this address at eleven o'clock tomorrow night. James has invited me to meet with his associates again, this time to discuss the services I can offer them. It would be best if we can close this down before any more damage is done." He reached out, gripping her arm above the elbow, "Phryne this could be dangerous, make sure they're well armed and stay close to Agent Jones." 

She nodded and he breathed a sigh of relief, "Now that's out of the way, there's something I've been wanting to do since I first saw you this evening in that dress." She smiled as he pulled her into his embrace. He kissed her slowly and deeply, running his hands up her bare arms, then down her sides, luxuriating in the taste and feel of her. When he finally released her she made a contented sound, letting her head rest in the crook of his neck. 

Jack couldn't believe that it was possible to be as happy as he was right now.


	14. The Warehouse

Jack knew something was wrong as soon as they stepped through the battered door and began to walk across the empty space towards the single dim light of the office. Halfway there two bright overhead lights came on and they were temporarily blinded. When Jack could see again there were six men surrounding them, including the three he recognised from their previous visit.

Confused, James looked around, "Whats going on? Are we having a party?"

"No, Mr Deburgh, it's more of a wake," Jack looked at the man with the indistinguishable accent, "for both you and Detective Inspector Robinson."

James smiled then, "I see, it's alright just a simple misunderstanding, you see Jack was a policeman but that's all over. He's about to become my brother-in-law."

Jack looked at him sharply, what was he talking about?

"It would appear, Mr Deburgh that you're the one that's confused, the Inspector is very much a serving policeman, he's also an MI6 operative."

Damn, thought Jack.

"What? Jack?" James swung to face him.

The strange accent continued, "Don't bother to deny it Inspector. Earlier today one of our safe houses received an unexpected visit and a gentlemen we were entertaining left us rather abruptly."

Ah, Jack thought, that makes it all worthwhile, as long as she doesn't turn up before eleven and she stays with Jones. He felt the wry smile form and knew that she would, as always, play things her way and he'd be lucky if she did one of the things he had asked of her. Either way he needed to conclude this situation quickly.

The accent continued, "It didn't take us long to identify you as the variable Inspector, if you weren't about to die I'd ask you to give my best to Captain Brown, we are old acquaintances."

"Jack? What is he talking about? You're in love with Catherine, tell them they've got it wrong," James demanded.

Jack turned to him in consternation, "Why do you think I'm in love with Catherine?" this wasn't the most important issue at the moment, but it was starting to annoy him and he needed to stall till he could come up with a plan.

"Because he knows I'm in love with you, Inspector," Catherine said as she stepped out in front of the office door. Eight pairs of eyes swung towards her. In the shabby warehouse she looked magnificently out of place, the clean lines of her body on display in her dark trousers and snug jersey, golden hair falling loose around her shoulders.

With the other men distracted, Jack pushed James towards the machines on his left, pulled out his gun and shot out the lights. Only then did he look towards where he had heard Catherine's voice, relieved to see she was gone and the office light was out too. He ran to his right to take cover.

"Well, Inspector it appears you've brought a party of your own, how unbearably rude."

Jack had seen James pull out a gun, he hoped that Catherine had had the same forethought. As he dodged between the machines trying to find a good vantage point, he remembered she was better equipped to deal with this situation than her brother.

"Inspector, surrender now and I'll let the woman leave unharmed. You and the boy will have to die of course, but I'll let her live. You have my word."

Jack didn't believe him for a moment, but he couldn't get to James without moving into the open, and he had no sense of where Catherine was. Then he heard a scuffle from his right towards the office.

"Hans? What's happening?" called the accent in german. Jack moved back out from the machines towards the sound, almost losing his footing in the blood around the dead man. "Hans?" came the demand again.

Jack disguised his voice, speaking low and panting as though in exertion, in german he replied, "I have her but the bitch has stabbed me. I need help, quickly."

When one of the men stumbled over to assist, Jack used his Webley to pistol whip him. But, as the unconscious man fell to the ground, more lights came on and he lost his advantage.

James chose that moment to start shooting. With all four remaining men returning fire Jack quickly scrambled back to cover.

Glancing out from behind a machine he saw Phryne standing directly behind one of the men with her gold .38, unsurprisingly her shot hit it's target and then there were three. He breathed a sigh of relief when she disappeared behind the machines not far from James.

He was glad to see her but when the cavalry didn't appear he realised she didn't have Jones with her. He glanced at his watch, it was still a few minutes shy of eleven. So, she had complied with exactly none of his requests. Why was he not surprised? Still their odds were improving, except now there seemed to be bullets flying everywhere.

James was making more noise then headway, though his indiscriminate shots were at least providing cover for the rest of them and drawing most of the attention. Also, he was leaving himself exposed and Jack had absolutely no qualms using him as bait.

Scurrying through the machines Jack managed to get the fourth man in his sights, he didn't like the idea of killing him but there weren't any options, he fired and watched the man drop.

He saw the fifth man go down not long after but he couldn't tell if it had been Phryne or Catherine.

Then the last man came out from his cover aiming in Phryne's general direction, Jack had a clear shot, so he took it.

The silence was eerie as he stood up and began to check that the men were dead, he paused when he saw that the man he had knocked unconscious now had a gun shot to the head.

In his peripheral vision he saw Phryne come out from behind one of the machines only to suddenly freeze. Jack glanced around, all six men were still down, confused he looked back to her a question on his lips. And then he saw James had turned his gun on her.

"Jack, you've been lying to me and that hurts but since we're going to be family I forgive you. But this woman?" he waved his gun at Phryne, "you don't need her anymore."

His whole world moved into slow motion as Jack assessed the situation... James had a pointblank shot, his arm tense as he prepared to pull the trigger... there was no way he could miss and, at that distance, it was almost guaranteed to be fatal... Phryne was turning her head to Jack, he'd be the last thing she ever saw... in the time it would take James to squeeze the trigger Jack would only have got his gun halfway up... there was... nothing... he could do... to save her...

"James," Catherine's voice broke across the tense silence.

James turned his head towards the sound, Phryne raised her gun and Jack ran to her. Seconds later, realising James was no longer a danger, she let the gun drop back just before Jack reached her. He wrapped her up in his arms putting himself between her and James, only then did he look to where she was staring.

Catherine was on the floor, her hand covering a wound on her side, bright red blood welling through her fingers.

Stumbling towards her, James fell to his knees beside her, his voice full of anguish, "Catherine! Why are you even here?" he looked around frantically, "Jack? Help me, we have to get her to hospital."

"I followed you, I was worried. Don't fuss, I'm alright just let me rest here for a moment," she said soothingly,

"Yes, yes, you'll be right as rain in a few days," his hands trembling as he caressed her face and hair, "We'll get you to the hospital and they'll fix you up." He seemed oblivious to the blood pooling around his knees.

"Do you remember when we were children James, how we used to play for hours in the woods?" she asked, a sweet happy look on her face, when he nodded she continued, "We were always the best of friends, weren't we? I was so horribly lonely until you came along. Remember we used to say that we would never be alone again?"

"That's right Catherine, you promised you'd never leave me and you never break a promise," he grasped at the reassurance in her words.

"And I never will."

As he reached to gather her into his arms another gun shot rang out.

Jack and Phryne watched stunned as Catherine flung the gun away, tears falling unheeded down her face, her beloved brother slumped dead beside her.

"Jack?" Catherine called weakly from the floor "Please, Jack?" Jack moved automatically to obey the request of a dying woman. He knelt down pulling her onto his lap to make her more comfortable.

"They would have hung him, I couldn't let that happen," her body shook with her sobs, "Jack, I tried so hard to be different but in the end I was just like her, destroying everything around me," the despair in her words was heart wrenching.

"No, Catherine, you're nothing like your mother," he wiped her tears, "you saved Phryne for me, she would never have done that."

She looked at him for a moment before raising her hand to his face, letting her thumb run along his cheek bone, "I know for you there will never be anyone but her and I think, I think that just made me love you more," suddenly she twisted in pain, "Jack!"

'I'm here," he reassured her.

"Stay with me? Until the end?"

He held her close, whispering gentle caresses to her until she stopped breathing. After a while he placed her carefully on the floor and turned towards Phryne. But she wasn't there.

Damn! What was wrong with him? He'd left her alone whilst he comforted another woman - again.

*****

Phryne leaned against the factory wall outside, breathing deeply, it had only just hit her how close she had been to death.

Jack came running out of the warehouse, panic etched on his face. When he saw her against the wall relief flooded his body "Phryne! I'm sorry, it's just that she saved your life, she was dying and I..."

"No, Jack don't..."

Jack's heart sunk, she was right he didn't deserve...

"... it's just that stupid noble nature you have, Jack Robinson," she continued, reaching out her hand to him.

And he came to her, wrapping his arms around her, whispering silently into her hair how much he loved her. He only let her go when they heard the unmistakable sound of policemen running down the alley.

"Miss Fisher!" Agent Jones moved towards the woman he recognised, "are you hurt?" He came to an abrupt halt when he saw the man standing beside her. Phryne saw shock pass quickly across his face, but when she turned to Jack it was clear he had never seen Jones before.

"Agent Jones? Detective Inspector Jack Robinson of the Victorian Constabulary," Jack put out his hand.

Jones grasped the proffered hand with both of his. "Sir," he said enthusiastically.

Phryne wondered what the hierarchy protocol was between the secret service and the police. Agent Jones had definitely decided Jack was the senior officer which, given his ego, surprised her.

Turning to her Jones asked, "Miss Fisher, how do you want the men deployed?"

"Well there's no rush, none of them are going anywhere. They're all in the warehouse. When you're ready to take our statements you can find myself and the Inspector at the Stanley residence," she nodded at him as she took Jacks arm and walked away.

Phryne glanced across to Jack, "You know she killed her mother?"

Jack kept his eyes front, "Yes. Perhaps she thought with her gone their father would love them more? She was only a child, she didn't understand life is never that simple."

She considered his words for a moment before nodding, they walked for a few steps before she said, "She really did love you."

Jack looked at her then, "She didn't even know me."

Phryne stopped walking, placing her hand on his upper arm digging her fingers in to emphasise her point, "She saw exactly who you are, Jack Robinson, and she loved you for it."


	15. The Nightcap

Guy hosted a small dinner party of a dozen guests to celebrate Phryne's birthday but even with Isabella doing her best to shock everyone to distraction, Jack felt out of sorts and nothing like the dashing spy he had been playing the last few weeks. Finally, he and Phryne withdrew to the library for a nightcap.

Phryne reached across to splash whiskey into Jack's glass, then she relaxed into the settee beside him, enjoying the warmth of his thigh against hers. "While you were with Captain Brown this morning, I visited the Deburgh's nanny." 

Jack let his eyes rest on his glass, there were other things on his mind but he could see she needed to talk about this.

She sighed, "I'm afraid it's not a very nice tale, she was only Catherine's nanny for a year, the last in fairly long line. She left when Catherine was five." She took a sip of her whiskey, "It seems Emilia's lovers had a tendency to assume the female staff were all as liberal minded as their mistress, unsurprisingly that made it difficult to find competent help and impossible to keep them."

"Emilia barely acknowledged the children and Anthony was completely wrapped up in her. Catherine wandered all over that huge estate on her own for years before James was born, then she would take him walking in the woods in all weather, at all hours. She had learnt there were times it wasn't safe to be in the house," she finished sadly.

For a split second an image of a young Phryne with Janey flashed across Jack's mind but he pulled himself back - no, this wasn't her story, she had made different choices. He took a long drink to steady himself, before forcing himself back to the conversation, "Does she know what happened that night?"

"Emilia had an altercation with one of her lovers and poor James literally ran into him as he was storming out of the house. Catherine was only seconds behind and saw him fling James into the wall on his way past. The commotion that followed roused Anthony from his library. He found Catherine on the floor cradling James' inert body screaming at her mother to get a doctor. Emilia told her there was no point, the boy was clearly dead and walked away."

"Surely Anthony had the wits to check the boy was still alive?"

"He was upset, though he tolerated Emilia having lovers he hated to be reminded of them."

"I imagine the fact they were constantly wandering around his family home made that challenging," Jack muttered.

"Jack!" she upbraided him. When he answered her with an unrepentant shrug she struggled to keep her face straight, "He loved her," she insisted, "and he was terrified she would leave him if there were restrictions or demands."

He gazed at her his eyes unreadable, "That's not love, its obsession. And, because it made him neglect his duty to their children, it was an unhealthy obsession."

Phryne understood. Anthony's behaviour was so far off Jack's moral compass he could have no empathy with him, but she remembered a time when she'd thought any amount of pain and humiliation was worth one of Rene's smiles. "I'm afraid he wasn't thinking straight. He carried the boy to Catherine's room and then retired to his library."

"He left her, a child alone, with what she thought was the dead body of her brother?"

She nodded sadly, "Catherine thought the one person who loved her was dead and she blamed her mother." She held out a letter, "He wrote this to the nanny."

He read in silence. Later that night, when Anthony had gone to the parlour to speak to his wife, he found her slumped in a chair covered in blood with Catherine collapsed on the floor beside her clutching a knife. He had been devastated, completely unable to imagine his life without Emilia. Jack could work out the rest, having sent the children away Anthony returned to the parlour, attempted to make it look like a break in, sat down beside the body of his dead wife and shot himself.

Jack passed the letter back to Phryne. The selfishness of the parents was appalling but they had both seen worst. Had Catherine and James survived he would not have hesitated to have them both arrested, it was a Court's role to determine how justice would be applied, not his.

Sitting forward Jack threw back the remainder of his whiskey, grimacing when the heat hit the back of his throat. After a slight pause Phryne did the same. 

"So tell me Jack what's next?" Phryne asked as she stretched across to refill their glasses, "Will you continue to work for Captain Brown? Or maybe you could join Scotland Yard?" She sounded excited by the possibilities.

Jack watched her carefully, "I'm heading back to Melbourne." He hoped that plain old Jack Robinson was enough for her but the last few weeks would surely have reminded her of all she would miss if she chose him.

Phryne looked at him in surprise, "You're not staying? I thought..."

"I need to go back Phryne," he felt her stiffen beside him. Well, he thought, I guess that answers that question. He felt sad but he had promised himself that no matter what happened he wouldn't regret coming after her. She was looking into the distance now as though she'd already forgotten he was there. Clearly he was intruding, he'd finish his drink and leave, he could bunk down in one of the guestrooms tonight.

"We'll need to stop in Calcutta."

Jack froze, not sure if she'd actually spoken or it was just wishful thinking on his part, "Sorry?"

Phryne leaned into him resting her head on his shoulder, "I left the plane in Calcutta, we'll need to pick it up."

Jack didn't even try to keep the ridiculous smile off his face.

"And I'll need to make a plan."

He looked at her thoughtfully as he moved to put his arm around her, "Surely you already have your return route planned?"

Phryne stared up at him from under her eyelashes, "Of course I have. No, you foolish man, I need a plan to get us back to Melbourne without any more women falling in love with you."

Jack laughed so hard his ribs started to hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are finally at the end! 
> 
> Just want to say this has been great fun and also to shout out to two people whose comments helped me shape the story as I went along...  
> Fire_Sign - for giving me the confidence to include Chapter 5  
> Babsmd - for mentioning the scary gothic family slant which inspired me to relook at the whole Deburgh story line and darken it. 
> 
> And a big thanks to all the rest of you lovely people who took the time to make comments and provide kudos : )
> 
> TeachersPet I promise I'll post those additional risque Phrack chapters for you before Christmas. I think you'll like them too Quiltingmom (although just to wind you up the first one does include a very slight cameo appearance by Isabella!)


End file.
